Trinket
by My.Most.Grievous.Fault
Summary: Persephone Trinket doesn't agree with the Games. She doesn't want to be an escort. But, in order to help her family, she volunteers for the job of escort for District 12 and is thrown into the world of love, violence and horror that is The Hunger Games.
1. Chapter 1

_You can't help it._

I grabbed out for the sheets of my bed, gripping for something to cling onto.

_It's not your fault._

I tossed and turn, tears streaming down my face, the cries of that young girl from District 10 echoing in my mind.

_It's not your decision._

I screamed.

"Up! Up! Up! It's going to be a big, big, big day!"

The cheerily sound of my mother's voice alerted me to the fact that it was morning, and I turned over to look at her, my eyes drowsy. She smiled at me through her bright red lips, and I could see from her fluorescent yellow wig and startling makeup that she was already prepared for the day ahead.

"Come _on,_ Persephone, or have you already completely forgotten what an important day it is? Honestly, child, you're lucky you have such an organised parent!" She smiled again. "If you want to get this job, you are going to have to start being more organised yourself."

I winced at her calling me "child", a common habit of my mother's. It seemed she always forgot that I was in fact 18. Then again, by Capitol rules, you were a child until you were 18, so I would have to live with my parents for another year until I was 19.

"Okay, mother, I'm getting up." I stretched and slowly got out of my king sized bed onto my cream-coloured floor. Walking from my bed to my wardrobe, I caught a glimpse of the view of the Capitol in my bedroom window. Masses of modern tall-story buildings scattered the city, and you could see all the flying automobiles whizzing in and out of the buildings, heading to their destination.

"Now, Persephone, which outfit do you think would be suitable?" My mother opened the glossy doors of my massive walk-in wardrobe and immediately I was hit with the garishness and brilliance of all my clothes. Walking into the wardrobe, I saw a glimpse of a clown-esque jumpsuit with padded shoulders and a pink tutu with bows attached to it. Neither item I had ever worn.

"What would you recommend, Mother?" I looked up at my mom, startled by all my clothes, most of which I had never seen before. My mother did all my clothes shopping for me, saying that I picked out "tasteless and pale" items of clothing.

It was the right thing to say. A grin appeared on her face and she started searching through the mounds of clothes immediately. To give me something to do, I started looking through my clothes myself, and caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror hanging on the back wall of the wardrobe.

I was boring and ugly by Capitol standards. My hair was a straw colour, and hung limply on my shoulders, not a bit of life in them. My face was pale and white, my eyes a greyish colour and my lips cracked and baby-pink. I was skinny too, which was odd for a Capitol child. You would think, living in a place where food supplies are endless, that I'd be a little chubbier. I looked more like a child from one of the districts.

"Here we go, Persephone, the perfect outfit. Smart and attention-grabbing. It just screams 'escort'!" Judging by her high-pitched voice, you could tell she was more excited about this than I was. But why shouldn't she be excited? Her only daughter was getting a chance to be an escort for one of the districts in the most important event of the year. The Hunger Games.

But that was exactly why I wasn't excited. The Hunger Games is a programme controlled by the Capitol in which one boy and one girl, from the ages of 12 to 18, from each of the twelve districts, are entered in a fight to the death for the Capitol's entertainment. It was made to keep a rebellion from ever happening again, since the rebellion of the districts 57 years ago. It is an escort's job to reap the boy and the girl from one of these twelve districts and to aid them on their journey to the Capitol. But I do not agree with the Games, and now, today, I'm going to meet President Snow and tell him exactly why I want to be an escort, and exactly why I love the Games. All of it will be lies.

"Thanks, Mother, I'll put it on straight away." I attempt a smile, even though my mind is screaming that this is all wrong. But I have no choice. Being an escort is a great opportunity for me. It may not be what I want, but it is a great honour, and will benefit my family. That's all I want.

Mother helps me put on the outfit, does my makeup and adds my accessories, then turns me to the mirror. I can't help but gasp, because I look completely unrecognisable. My dull straw hair is gone, replaced by a yellow and green curly wig placed firmly on my head, and my face is covered in a peachy powder which highlights my cheekbones. My eyes are decorated with an emerald, glittering eye shadow which matches the wig. My lips are a maroon colour, and make me look mysterious. And my dress, oh my dress! My dress is a classic tent dress, a gold bodice covering my upper half, and a pointing out yellow skirt with frills at the bottom going down to my thighs. If I turn around, I can see that there is a large green bow at the back of the dress. For my footwear, my mother has chosen green stilettos with golden studs sticking out of them, making me look dangerous. I grinned. I didn't expect anything less, really. After all, Mother used to be a stylist for the Games, until she had me, and the Head Gamemaker decided that she was too old for the job.

"I love it Mother, I really do! I look... Just like a Capitol member, a proper one." I grin at her reflection and give her a hug. It is not the most comfortable hug, as her dress sticks out and points in my face, but it is not without affection. When she finally pulls back, I wish she hadn't.

"I'm glad you like it." She adjusts my now-tilted wig. "I can already see you up there on stage, reading out the tributes for District 1. Imagine you, reaping a potential winner!"

I laugh. "Now, now, Mother, you can't guarantee that I'll get District 1, or get the job at all. But I'll try, I'll really try."

She strokes my face, carefully not to rid it of any of the makeup. "Persephone, don't talk like that. I know you can do this. You're a Trinket, and Trinkets always succeed."

I wasn't quite sure that was the Trinket family motto, but I was grateful for it all the same. "Thank you."

She smiled again, and I could see the laugh lines on her face, showing that she wasn't perhaps as youthful as she seemed. She had always been a woman of desire in the Capitol when she had been a stylist, my father had told me, so much so that a tribute she was asked to style had fallen for her. She had to keep it a secret, though, as relationships between Capitol and district members are strictly forbidden. After she had found out he'd fallen for her, though, she was always quick to do his dress, and didn't wish him goodbye before he left. She wasn't trying to be cruel, though. She just couldn't let the Capitol know that he was in love with her. She was protecting him, really.

I heard a chink, bringing me back to the present, and I noticed that my mother had taken out necklace from her pocket. She hung it on my neck, and it lay above my chest in gold chain.

"This is the one last thing before we go off to the Capitol for your interview. Read it." Obeying her, I looked in the mirror at the pendant hanging from the chain and noticed that it was a series of letters. I was always quite good at reading backwards, and read the letters in the mirror easily.

_Effie_, they read.

Mother smiled, and I realised I'd read it out loud. "Your new name. Sounds much snazzier than Persephone, eh? Much more suitable for an escort for District 1."

_Effie. Effie Trinket. _Yes, I think I rather liked it.

"Come on then." My mum said, walking out of the wardrobe and gesturing me to follow her. "It's time to go to the Justice Building. It's time for your interview."


	2. The Interview

Ch 2

Whooooosh! The flying automobile whizzed past the buildings and people and headed towards the Justice Building at an unsafe speed. I had to grip on to the driver's seat in order to keep from crashing into my mother who was on the right side of me. Apparently, this vehicle had never heard of seatbelts. Six, was the number of times my wig had fallen off my head. My mother's wig had also fallen off at a similar number of times.

"Are you sure this was a good idea?" I shouted to my mom over the whirring of the automobile. Didn't the driver know how to go slowly?

My mother didn't bother replying. She had her eyes closed and seemed to be doing her best to restrain herself. I wasn't, though. It was just, this was ridiculous!

Suddenly, the automobile came to a halt and I was thrown forward into the seat in front of me. I groaned in pain before getting up and brushing myself off. I exchanged looks with my mom, whose eyes said Why have we stopped?, before looking out the window of the automobile. We were here.

The door of the vehicle opened and a young man with orange frizzy hair and purple eyeliner gazed at me and offered me a hand out of the automobile. I smiled, nodded and took his hand, before getting out and looking at the building that we had stopped at.

The Justice Building was more of a colosseum than anything else. It had four long pillars running down it and was the only thing that looked ancient in the whole of the Capitol. Every district had a Justice Building too, as it seemed it was a tradition in Panem.

"Follow me." The man with the curly orange hair, who I now realise had been our driver, said before walking up into the Justice Building. I attempted to follow after him, which wasn't easy in my tall thin studded heels. My mother was having no problem walking in her heels though, and soon was ahead of me.

I gazed around the building as I walked inside. I had never been inside the Justice Building before, neither had most people, but I knew from stories my Mother had told me and from looking at her that she had. She didn't have that look of curiosity on her face, though she did look distant, as if she was reminiscing about her time here.

It was quite dark in the building, and as we walked further into it, I had to squint to see, as the candles didn't offer much light to the place. I wondered, walking through the old place, why I was having my interview here. It didn't seem like a very suitable place.

"All important events have been held here for years, ever since this building was made during the war to protect the Capitol citizens." The driver of the automobile said, as if reading my mind. He ran a shaky hand through his hair. It seemed even he was nervous about seeing President Snow. "It is thought to be very holy and sacred, and brings good luck. It is also very silent, meaning it is the perfect place for an interview. The President will be expecting you to be unnerved by this environment. Don't show your fear."

I couldn't help but give him a strange look. Why was he giving me advice? He didn't even know me.

"That's what I think." He muttered, before walking quickly on past me. He sure was a strange man.

"Here we are!" I heard my mother exclaim, coming to a halt at the ivory doors in front of her. I was only about 3 metres from where she stood, exhausted. If I had thought the Justice Building was small before, I certainly didn't now.

Hesitantly, the driver, who was standing next to my mom, opened the doors to reveal an average-sized room with violet walls and an overpowering smell of roses. The roses in questions sat in a tall glass vase on a mahogany table in the centre of the room, and behind it, President Snow, his snake eyes staring directly at me.

Suddenly, it was as if I had stepped into the television at home. I had only ever seen President Snow on the TV, wishing good luck to the tributes for The Hunger Games and giving interviews. He smiled at me now, as I hastily sat down in one of the cushioned chairs on the other side of the table, and my mother began to walk towards the chair next to me.

"Not so fast, Mrs Trinket. As much as it warms me to see how much you care about your child, this interview is confidential, and I don't want you to say anything that could change Persephone's performance in any way." He licked his puffy lips, that I was sure were surgically altered.

Mom nodded, silent as I'd ever seen her. With a reluctant smile, she walked out the room, the driver following her. As the doors closed, their sound left an echo, but after that, silence. Just me and the President of Panem in the small quiet room.

"So- Persephone, is it? - why are you interested in being an escort?" He smiled at me as if this was the most normal thing in the world. For him, it probably was.

"It's Effie." I said, struggling to get out the words. Correcting him seemed rude. "And I would like to be an escort as I feel that I can really contribute to the tributes' performances and improve their skills with people. I also feel that the reaping is a key part of The Hunger Games, and that I would reap the tributes with a lively and cheery demeanour." I chimed, repeating what my mother had told me to say.

Snow nodded. "Yes, Effie, I can see what you are saying. But, you see, I'm not sure you're _ready._ The escort is the hardest job of them all. And do you know why that is? Because you have to cope with the whole of Panem, with the exception, perhaps, of the Capitol citizens, despising you."

I could only nod a little, and play with my hands. My mind had gone completely blank from his words.

"You look puzzled, my dear. Allow me to explain." He straightened his pink tie. "You see, the people of Panem will hate you because you have reaped the citizens of their district. Sealed the fate of 24 children. In a way, killed them."

"But," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "But, that's not fair! It's not the escort's fault. They simply read out the names, they don't choose the tributes."

Snow nodded. "I agree, Effie, I agree, but the people of Panem do not see it like that. They do not see that the Hunger Games are the Capitol's way of remembering our past and safeguarding our future. Even the victors, who we have lavished in gifts and money, don't seem to be grateful for the Capitol's generosity and forgiveness." He sighed. "Sometimes I feel as if the war has segregated us all, left us to be separate, so different to each other. Are we really so different, Capitol and District?"

It took me a minute to register this as a question. "Oh, no sir, not at all. We just have differing opinions, that's all." Of course, that wasn't my view at all, but it seemed to please President Snow. His eyes lit up.

"Yes, Effie, I am glad you understand. I am impressed with the way you have presented yourself. But it's time to put you into a hypothetical situation." Snow stood up, and I saw that he was wearing a black suit with silver cufflinks, and black brogues. He walked to the back of the room, where an oak cabinet stood, and pulled out an object that I couldn't see from one its draws. Silently, he walked back to the table, sat down and placed the object on the table. Then I saw what it was. A reaping bowl.

Well, it was more of a model of a reaping bowl. I could see from here that the slips of paper had nothing written on them, and were for practicing purposes only. Without speaking, Snow pushed the bowl towards me. Our eyes locked, and I understood what he was trying to tell me. _Reap._

I stood up and brushed myself off, before putting on a big grin. _Act like everything in the world is amazing, like you're always happy._ My mother had advised me. _And remember to keep your manners immaculate._

"Welcome, welcome, welcome," I bellowed to the room, feeling stupid. "To the reaping of the 57th annual Hunger Games!" I put an emphasis on the word "games", trying to get that strange 'Capitol accent' that I had seen people on the television use. "Happy Hunger Games. And may the odds," I said, still smiling, "be _ever_ in your favor. Now, before we begin, we have a very special film brought to you all the way from the Capitol!" I tried to look excited and skipped forward to after the video, picking up the bowl and trying not to think about Snow's glassy eyes on me.

"Now the time has come for us to select one courageous young man and woman for the honour of representing District 1 in the 57th annual Hunger Games. As usual, ladies first."  
I shoved my right hand into the bowl, rifling through the pieces of paper. I hoped from me mentioning "District 1" that he would get the hint- I wanted to be an escort for that district.  
I took a piece of paper from the bowl and brought it up to my eyes. Of course, as I expected, there were no words written there, so I improvised.

"Laure Diver!" I said. It was not a name I had heard before, but I don't think it was the name that mattered, but the way I said it, so I tried to put as much enthusiasm into it as I could.

After bringing a pretend Laure to the pretend stage, I said "Now for the boys!" And dug my hand into the bowl again. I pulled out the piece of paper and set the bowl on the table.

"Haymitch Abernathy!" I declared. I had heard it before in one of the Games a few years ago, but it wasn't of any importance to me. Almost immediately after I'd said it, though, Snow spat out some gum I hadn't even realised he'd been chewing.

"Was that some kind of joke, Miss Trinket?" He said, going red. I was going red myself, of embarrassment. _Oh Effie. You've really done it this time._

"I..I.." I said, but I couldn't think if anything to say. I didn't know why President Snow was reacting so badly to that name.

"Haymitch Abernathy is the victor of the 50th Hunger Games who violated the rules by using the force fields of the arena to kill his final opponent. He is also a vile man who spends his time drinking. Does that amuse you, Effie?" He was scowling now, a far cry from the relaxed person he had seemed only a minute earlier.

"I'm sorry, President." It was a weak response, and I knew it.

"You are dismissed, Miss Trinket. It was nice to hear from you."

As if by magic, the doors of the room opened, revealing my mother waiting outside. Judging by her expression, she hadn't heard any of it. She looked extremely curious, and hopeful. _Too bad I let her down, _I thought.

The doors closed behind me with a kind of fury as I walked out the room towards my mother.

"How was the interview? Did you get the job? Are you an escort for District 1?"

I tried not to let my feelings show. I couldn't let my mother down. So I simply shrugged and was quiet on the journey home. When I finally got back, I ran to my room and cried, cried, cried.


	3. The Result

Ch 3

Me and mother didn't talk on the way home. I think she could sense that I was upset. Once home, I quickly ran into my room, before bursting into tears.

And that's when the questions started.

"What happened? What's wrong?"

I wasn't going to tell her, of course. I could just imagine the shame in her eyes, the disappointment in her expression…

"Go away, leave me alone! I don't want to talk to anyone!"

I expected her to keep bugging me, but I heard her sigh from the other side of the door and walk away.

_Come on, Effie, pull yourself together, _said the voice in my head. It was right, of course. I got up, wiped my eyes off and slowly took my wig and other fancy Capitol clothes off. I wasn't in the mood for it anymore. I thought suddenly of the other Capitol citizens, who wore these clothes on a regular basis. How could they bare wearing bright, happy clothes on days they were sad. But of course, no one in the Capitol got sad, according to President Snow. Ha, what did he know?

I thought suddenly back to his face when I'd read out Haymitch's name, of the unbearably strong scent of roses in the room. I still didn't understand why that name had caused so much rage. I had to admit, though, it had made me curious about Haymitch. If I did become a mentor- ha, like that's going to happen now- I wonder if I would get to meet him? I have so many questions to ask him now, and will probably never get the chance to ask them.

Sighing, I got into my usual plain blue dress and washed my face of my radiant makeup. It felt nice to take it off, as it had been so heavy and felt like I was wearing a mask. As it all fell away, I was just normal Persephone Trinket again.

Well, apart from my hair. It had gone frizzy from the wig and was standing up at odd angles. I used my brush to carefully straighten the blonde wisps so they arranged themselves back into their usual style. There, that was better.

I heard a buzz and turned around to see that my phonavision- a device which allows someone to call me on a phone, but I see their face on a television- had turned on, and my father was on the screen. As soon as I saw him, looked at his calming, sea-blue eyes, I felt instantly more relaxed and calm. I hadn't seen him for weeks, but every time I did, he had this effect on me. I know you're not meant to favour one parent over another, but I definitely preferred him to Mother.

"Persephone, it's me, your father. Can you see me on screen?" He said, waving at me to check that I was seeing him.

"Yep, I can see you, dad. You're waving, right?"

He stopped waving and smiled. "Right. So, how did your interview go?"

Unlike with Mother, I wanted to spill it all out to him: How I felt throughout the process, what had happened, what the result had been. But the lips couldn't form the words. I kept picturing his pitying, let down eyes on me, even though I knew he would never be disappointed in me.

"Fine." I lied. Father didn't seem to realise. In fact, he released a breath I didn't know he was holding.

"That's great. Really great. I know you'll get it, you've got something special, you know that? You're way more individual and talented than any of those other girls."

The way Father said it made me almost believe him, but his eyes said differently. It was almost like, a reluctance. Like he didn't want me to go.

_Oh, Father, I never wanted to go either. Never wanted to leave. And now I won't be, but I can't tell you that. Can't take the risk that you'll tell Mother afterwards._

There was a long silence before Father said: "Well, ring me up when you know what's what." He said with a smile.

"I will." I attempted a smile back. "And Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

He smiled, and you could tell that was exactly what he wanted to hear. "I love you too, Persephone."

"When are you coming back?"

His face suddenly grew dark and he lost eye contact with me. "Um.. Soon, Persephone. It's not a long job. I'll be back soon…"

I was about to say how great that was, when the phonavision suddenly turned black.

"Dad! Dad!" I shouted at the screen, hitting it over and over. Why had it turned off so suddenly? Why couldn't he make eye contact with me?

Because he couldn't bear to lie to me.

It had all started, this separation of me and him, with the job he'd got last year. He'd been interested in him, the Head Peacekeeper of District 10, since Father had done that job in District 9 with the farmers and had somehow managed to get them enormous amounts of grain that year. Since then, the Capitol had been happy with him, pleased that he'd done so much to "help Panem" and had offered him all kinds of jobs. He'd turned them all down- and Mother had given up hope that he would ever find another good job "with his pickiness"- when the Head Peacekeeper of District 10 had phoned him saying he was retiring and asking him if he was interested in replacing him. Father had got dozens of Head Peacekeeper requests before, of course, but something must have changed, or the Head Peacekeeper must have offered him something he really wanted, because he took the job and travelled there the next day. That was 6 months ago. I haven't seen him in the flesh since then, only through the phonavision. And now it looks like he's going to be there for a lot longer. But why had he taken the job in the first place? Too many questions about Father and Haymitch and President Snow where whirling in her head for her to focus on just one.

A knock on my door brought me back to reality.

"Persephone? Are you sleeping?" My mother.

"No." _And even if I had been, you would've just woken me up with that knocking._

"Good." I watched as the door handle turned on my side of the door and smiled. Did she really think I would've unlocked it since she left the first time?

She let out a deep sigh. "Persephone, can you let me in, please?"

Reluctantly, I opened the door for Mother and let her come inside my room.

Immediately she went over to the pile of the Capitol clothes I had taken off earlier and picked them up with a grimace.

"Really, Persephone, this is _not_ the way to treat your expensive clothes." She picked up the wig and dusted it off. "This cost a fortune. You should be treating these clothes well." She shook her head. "Aren't you even grateful for all the hard work I put into this performance. From your reaction to it, you must have mucked it up. Honestly, Persephone, can't you get anything right?"

I felt tears well up in my eyes, but my mother didn't look pitying. She looked fed up and frustrated, as if she had been the one that had gone to that interview. I wanted to scream at her: "Why do you care? It wasn't your job! It wasn't your mistake!" but instead I did something worse.

I grabbed the vase of flowers and threw it at the table next to my bed, the glass splinters jamming into the table. It was stupid, I knew, but it was my only way to vent my frustration at her, at Father, at everyone. I wanted to make the most of this and exit the room with a slam of the door, but I knew I should probably explain myself. If there was one thing my Mother couldn't stand, it was irrationality, and I had certainly demonstrated my irrational side with that move.

Mother looked at the table and then pointed at it, shouting at me, "THAT IS MAHOGANY!", as if the cost of the table was more important than the fact I had just thrown glass which was hazardous and could potentially hurt both me and her.

Suddenly, I burst into tears. "I'm sorry, Mother, I'm so sorry." I ran into her arms, and, surprisingly, she returned the hug. "It's just President Snow and Dad and.."

"Shhh." She soothed me, stroking my hair. "You don't have to explain yourself to me. You- Wait, you spoke to your father?"

I nodded. "Uh-huh."

"What did he say?" The desperation in her voice was clear.

"Not much, but it's obvious he's not coming back soon."

I felt a wet drop hit my head, and looked up to see that Mother was crying too.

"I'm so sorry, Mom."

She shook her head. "No, I'm sorry; I'm the one who's been too harsh on you recently. Let's clear this up now, shall we?" She said, gesturing to the wood -sorry, mahogany- and glass mess.

"Okay." I smiled, and together we wiped our tears, cleaned up, and for once in a long time, talked about girly things. And I knew, despite our differences, that we were a team, and I loved my Mother very much. I almost felt happy that now I wouldn't have to leave her.

"Persephone! Persephone!"

I was woken up by my mother frantically shaking me and calling my name, and by the light streaming into my face, I guessed that she had opened the curtains too.

Peeling my eyes open, I looked at my mother. Her hair was in a mess of curls around her face, and she had bags under her eyes, but she was grinning. And that's when I saw what she was holding.

"Look, it's an envelope!" She turned it around to show me the back of it. It had the Capitol logo and the words "From the President" underneath. "It's from President Snow!" she exclaimed.

"I know, Mom, I can read." I said, suddenly getting butterflies. I didn't want Mother to get too excited. It would probably be about how awful my audition was.

Mother passed me the envelope. "Go on then, Persephone, open it!"

Slowly, I opened the envelope, dreading the worst. I hoped Mother wouldn't make me read the letter out.

I carefully took the letter out of the envelope and unfolded it. It read, in a neat, italic scrawl- President Snow's writing:

_Dear Effie Trinket,_

_I am delighted to announce that you will be escorting District 12 following your interesting and insightful performance at the Justice Building two days ago. You will get to meet the stylists for District 12, me and of course, Haymitch Abernathy, and a train will arrive at Capitol Central to pick you up tomorrow. The Games aren't for another 2 months, but you have to be prepared! We have lots of things to show you, including the Arena for this year, but make sure you keep it completely confidential!_

_May the odds be ever in your favor,_

_President Snow._

_P.S Wish your darling mother well for me and tell her how much I miss her._

Just as I finished reading the letter, my Mother giggled, and it was clear she had been reading it too and had been charmed by the ending.

"Isn't the President so lovely? So nice of him to wish me well." She grinned.

I rolled my eyes, but inside I had a stomach ache. Something wasn't right. The President wouldn't have given me the job if it hadn't had some kind of bad sting in its tail.

"Enough about him, though. You got the job, Effie! You're going to be an escort!" She picked me up and kissed me, right on the nose. "I am so proud of you!"

She put me down and smiled. "What district are you reaping for, again?"

She picked up the letter and re-read it. "District 12. Oh dear, there's only ever been one victor there. Still, you can't be picky about these things. With you as an escort, I'm sure they'll have a District 12 Victor this year!"

Suddenly Mother's words hit me. _There's only ever been one victor there. _Of course. I was going to reap children that would almost certainly die. It would make me look like I was the one sending them to the Games, and any friendship I formed with the tributes would hit me hard when they died. I'd be hated by District 12, and the pain of sending children off to certain death would surely take me over.

_May the odds be ever in your favor, _President Snow had said, echoing my words at the Interview.

The odds certainly weren't in my favour today.


	4. The Train

Chapter 4

"You're kidding me. I can't believe you got the job!"

My mother and I sat around the main phonavision in my Mother's room, talking to Father. We had just told him about the news, and he was putting on a big smile, though you could tell he wasn't really happy. He knew me better than anyone, and knew I was unhappy and the reasons why with just a look, but we'd made a silent agreement between us with our eyes after Mother had announced the news about my job that we would keep our sadness from her.

"I know, it's so great! I am so proud of her!" My mother squeezed me tight, and you could tell that unlike me and my father, she was genuinely happy.

My father smiled. "I am too. How long till you leave for District 12?"

My mother's grinning face turned into a pout. "She has to leave tomorrow. I'll admit, I wasn't happy about that. She has so much to pack! I will let them off though, because of President Snow's lovely message." She picked up the letter again and sighed. "He said he misses me very much, Aelius!"

My Father frowned at that. It was obvious he was jealous of the President's close relationship with my mother, though I didn't understand it. My mother may be many things, but she wasn't a cheat. She would never leave my Father for President Snow. That was one thing I was certain of.

"Hmm." He said. "What a nice touch. Anyway, I'm happy for you, Effie."

"Thanks, Dad." I smiled for him. "I'm just disappointed that I didn't get District 10. I might've got to see you, then."

"I know, Effie, but never fear, because there's always the Victory Tour! Escorts get to go on those, right?" We both looked towards my mother hopefully for confirmation.

She flustered. "Well, I'm not sure, Aelius. It's normally only the escort for the winning district, but since Effie's my daughter, the President might be lenient."

Father rolled his eyes. "Don't get too big-headed, my love. It's Persephone's time to shine now, after all!"

My mother smiled and stroked my hair. "Oh yes, I know that. But Effie, dear, please try to notify me on the stylists' ideas for the tributes. I do like to see if they're up to their usual standards."

I nodded. I would try.

"Well, I really have to go now, but I'm so proud of you, Persephone." He looked into my eyes and he had tears in his bluey-gray ones. Whether tears of happiness or sadness, I couldn't tell. Probably the latter.

"Over and out." He muttered, before the phonavision went blank.

"Well, wasn't that lovely!" My mom's bright voice filled the sad silence in the room. "Nice to speak to your father before you go, wasn't it?"

I nodded. "It was."

"Good. Now, time to get the rest of your stuff together. District 12 awaits!"

Even after me and my Mother had finished packing, there was lots of preparation to be done. As before my interview, my mother helped to pick out an outfit to wear today and showed me how to fit on a wig and do my own makeup "to look presentable all the time". She said she wouldn't let anyone from the Capitol see me without my makeup and fancy clothing and that "even Haymitch Abernathy should only see you as the high-and-mighty Escort, who is much better than him."

Despite not even knowing Haymitch, I couldn't help but feel pity for him when Mom said that. She was behaving just as bad as the other Capitol citizens, who felt themselves better than the Districts because they were richer and had escaped the wrath of the Hunger Games. Even if Haymitch had used a force field in his Games, he was just trying to survive, he didn't deserve this.

I didn't say any of this, of course. I wanted this last day with my Mother to be a happy one, not tainted with arguments over a man neither of us really knew.

"And that is how you get the perfect complexion." Mother put down the blusher brush that she had been carefully using over my cheekbones. I'll admit it, I hadn't really been paying attention. But I would probably get my own stylist, right? Even if I didn't, I don't think it matters. That's another thing that sets me apart from the rest of the Capitol. I don't care about my appearance.

Maybe I'd be better off living in the Districts.

"Oh my goodness, look at the time!" Mother pointed to her watch, which had a frame decorated by jabber jays. The birds seemed to be looking at me accusingly, so I looked away from the watch.

"Persephone, were you not looking at the watch?" My mother tried to pull me out the chair I had been sitting in. "Get up! We need to go, now!"

"Okay, okay." Reluctantly, I got out my chair and collected my bags from my room.

"I'm going to go get us an automobile cab to take us to the station, okay?" I nodded, and my mom smiled. "Good. Meet you downstairs in two minutes!"

My mother walked quickly out of the room, closing the door gently behind her. I turned towards my room, where I had slept every day for the last 18 years.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye." I said to the empty room. _No,_ I thought. _It's not good bye. I'll be back after The Games._

But I won't be the same.

I thought suddenly back to the 50th Games, Haymitch's. How the lovely Maysilee Donner had become so hard and unfriendly by the end. How Haymitch, brave and noble in The Games, was now a drunken wreck.

The Games change everybody.

And who was to say I wasn't included? Watching all those children die- I had seen it on my phonavision before, but never first-hand. I would talk to these tributes, maybe even like them. One of them may be the same age as me. And yet they'd have to go into these Games and not me.

How could my mother possibly like President Snow? With this sick, cruel invention that set innocent children against each other? How could she support this?

Would she feel the same if it was her own child?

"Persephone." My mother's words interrupted my thoughts, and I was glad of it. Pessimistic thinking wasn't going to get me anywhere. I had to be positive.

My mother, however, did not seem happy to see me. "Persephone, I asked you to come downstairs in two minutes! Five minutes have past since then!"

I blushed. "Sorry, Mother."

"You should be! I can imagine the automobile will have driven away by now!" She shook her head. "Honestly, if you are going to be an Escort, organisation is key!"

"Sorry."

"It's fine. Let's just go now, before we are any later."

I managed to mutter one last goodbye to my room before we hurried to go meet the cab. As we drove away, I couldn't help but shed a tear at the sight of my house. I wonder if the tributes from the districts felt like this, like they were never going to see their home again.

"Effie Trinket?"

The door of my cab opened to reveal a large, rather tall man with bright orange ringlets and a blue pinstripe suit.

I nodded. "That's me."

The man smiled. "Thanks goodness. We were beginning to think you had got lost."

He offered me a hand and I stepped out the cab, while the driver and my Mother collected my stuff from the boot.

I couldn't help but gasp. I had never been to the station of the Capitol before, and the driver had stopped at the most luxurious part of it. As me, my mother and the cab driver followed the orange-haired man into the station centre, the man pointed out many interesting things about the station like a tour guide, such as the statue of President Snow or the plaque commemorating District 3's hard work on the trains here. The plaque seemed almost pointless to me, as it wasn't as if anyone from District 3 was ever going to see it.

We followed him to Platform 9 where we dropped off our bags. There were barely any people here, and when my Mother asked why, he explained it was because only Capitol members who had jobs that were part of the Games got the train here.

"Pardon me," he said. "I just realised I still haven't properly introduced myself! I am Flavius Castellan, but you can just call me Flavius."

"I'm Effie's mother, Bethan." My mother and the strange man shook hands. "So, what's your job in the Games, Flavius?"

Mother was so good at this- asking questions, looking interested. _That's what I should be doing._ I thought. But I couldn't. I wasn't that sort of person.

"I'm glad you asked." He grinned. "I am a stylist for District 12, but by no means am I or will I ever be as good as the beautiful Annabethan Theron." He kissed her hand.

My mother blushed. Normally, she would correct people when they used her maiden name, but with Flavius, she didn't seem to mind.

"That means you will be spending a lot of time with my daughter, isn't that correct?"

Flavius grinned. "It sure is. But don't worry, I'll make sure she comes to no harm."

He looked at me directly, and his eyes glittered emerald green.

I opened my mouth to respond, but just then the train whizzed into the station. It was a silvery-white, with black doors, and the words CAPITOL TRAVEL inscribed onto it. As the train slowed down, Mother and the cab driver- who I had not even realised was still there- prepared my stuff for getting on the train.

The train stopped and Flavius started walking towards it in his snazzy glittering heeled shoes, when a tall man with dark brown short wavy hair and golden eyes stumbled out of the train and fell flat on the floor.

Flavius' expression turned to one of disgust, before he went to help the stumbling man. "_Haymitch."_ He hissed as he pulled him up.

I had to stifle a gasp. _This _man was Haymitch? He looked so different to 7 years ago. It wasn't just the fact that he had aged- there was wildness in his eyes, and he seemed almost lost. Far from the confident image he had given off in the Games.

"Glad to see you too, Flavius." He said as he stood up and brushed himself off. He was drunk- that was obvious- so much so that he had to lean on Flavius to keep himself up.

Flavius looked like he wanted to shrug him off. "What are you doing here?" he snapped.

"Believe me, I don't want to be here either." He grumbled. "But it was the President's orders. Said he wanted me to be here especially to meet our newcomer." He turned towards me.

"So _you're _Effie Trinket, the new Escort." His tawny eyes flashed and he smirked. "I've heard _so much _about you."

"Yeah, well I haven't exactly heard the best feedback about you, either." I muttered. I wasn't going to make Haymitch make me look like a fool.

There was a tense silence between us, before Flavius cleared his throat.

"I don't mean to interrupt, but we've got a train to catch." He gestured to the open doors of the Capitol train.

Haymitch grunted and followed Flavius hastily towards the train.

"Wait." I cried out. "Can I say goodbye to my mom, first?"

Flavius hesitated, then nodded. "Make it quick."

I smiled, wanting to hug him, before running towards my mother.

"I know you're going to be great, Persephone. I'll be watching out for you." She embraced me in a hug. "Stay away from that Haymitch." She whispered into my ears as we hugged. "He seems like trouble."

I tensed in her arms and let go. "Thanks Mom." I smiled, and I noticed my mother's eyes were shining.

"You're welcome. Go, now. President Snow is waiting."

I smiled softly before running into the train. As if the train knew I was the last to board, its doors slid shut behind me.

"Let's go then, sweetheart." I heard Haymitch say behind me. "You're going to love District 12."

Him and Flavius ushered me into the nearest carriage and I took the window seat. The last thing I saw before the train left the station was my mother, her eyes so full of hope and praise for me, before I was taken off to District 12, taken to a destiny I wasn't even sure I wanted anymore.


	5. The Interruption

"I have to say, I certainly wasn't expecting you to look like this."

Haymitch, Flavius and I sat in the train- or shall I say, reclined in the train, as the seats were of the finest luxury- while servants came round serving food and wine. At the moment, I was tucking into a lamb stew, which, despite my Mother's amazing cooking, was better than any I had ever had. It seemed that even despite coming from a rich family, the people that worked for the Games got better quality food and lifestyle than my family and I.

"Well, what were you expecting me to look like, Haymitch?" I asked, tearing off a piece of garlic bread from the platter of it on the dining table. One of the girl servants lay down a roast turkey on the table and our eyes met. I smiled at her but she looked away and hurried off.

When I looked back to the food, I noticed Flavius' eyes were focused on me. They said: _You don't communicate with the servants. _But I hadn't said a word to her. Wasn't I even allowed to smile? Was that how superior the Capitol citizens thought themselves to others?

"Well, I expected you to be a little taller for a start." Haymitch said, making me break eye contact with Flavius and go back to eating my stew. "You're a bit short. I also thought you'd look a bit more like your mother. She was always a looker."

Flavius cleared his throat. "Mrs Trinket is a very respectable member of the community, Haymitch. I will not allow you to address her in that way."

Haymitch roared with laughter. "What way? Calling her pretty? You know as well as I do that she is."

"I'm not short." I mumbled, though Flavius and Haymitch were too into their argument to pay attention to me.

Or maybe not. "Sure you are. Even with your heels, you're a foot shorter than me."

I blushed. "I don't think I'm quite a _foot_ shorter than you. That's a bit of an overstatement." I popped some bread into my mouth. "Maybe you're just freakishly tall."

Flavius coughed loudly. "I'm going to the lavatory." He muttered, before getting up and leaving the carriage.

"Oh dear." Said Haymitch, in the middle of a groosling leg. "I don't think he likes us very much, does he?" He grinned.

I looked away from Haymitch's unnerving stare. "You, maybe. I think he likes me."

"Uh-huh." Haymitch shook his head. "At least, not once you opened your mouth. I don't think 'freakishly' is a very appropriate word in the Capitol vocabulary."

"Don't patronize me." I snapped at him. "I know about Capitol language. I have lived there all my life."

"Could've fooled me." Haymitch muttered.

I wanted to slam my fist down on the table, but then I remembered when I had thrown that glass vase and how angry Mother had been, shouting, "THAT IS MAHOGANY!" This table might be equally as expensive.

I so badly wanted to though. Haymitch got on my nerves so much. We had only been on the train for an hour and a half and already I was at his throat. I suddenly regretted all the pity I had felt for him the day before. He was just as bad as people made him out to be.

I heard some footsteps, and looked up to see Flavius returning.

"Ah, Flavius, how nice of you to re-grace us with your presence." Haymitch grinned, pouring himself and Flavius some more red wine as the stylist sat back down in his seat. I noticed that he had slicked back his hair and done up his makeup. He looked radiant. Haymitch looked like a slob in comparison, with unbrushed, slightly greasy hair and those wild eyes of his.

We spent the rest of the meal in silence, apart from a few coughs and splutters from Haymitch, until the servants came to collect up the empty platters and our plates.

"That was delicious." I said to the girl servant who I had unruffled earlier, ignoring Flavius' advice to not communicate with her or any of the other servants. "What was that sauce that they put in the stew? I'll have to tell my mother about it when I get back."

The girl shrugged before clumsily clattering the plates she was carrying and walking away in the same hurried manner that she had the first time.

Avoiding Flavius' gaze, I looked at Haymitch. "She's very quiet."

For some reason, this made Haymitch roar with laughter. "I can see why President Snow chose you as Escort. You're so entertaining!"

My cheeks flushed with frustration. "What? I haven't said anything funny!"

Haymitch stuck his tongue out and did a cutting movement with his finger over it. "They have no tongues. Can't speak without a tongue!" He said, before bursting into laughter again.

Flavius rolled his eyes. "What Haymitch is attempting without success to say is that the servants are Avoxes."

I frowned. "What's an Avox?"

Haymitch snorted. "And you said you'd lived in the Capitol all your life!"

I shot him a look.

"Avoxes are Capitol members that are silenced in punishments for crimes they may have committed." Flavius explained.

My mouth hung open. "That's _awful._" I scowled at Haymitch, who was wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "How can you laugh at a thing like that?"

Haymitch looked at me, suddenly serious. "Because I'm not from the Capitol."

That's right. The three of us here, talking so casually, it was like he was just another member of the Capitol. And though Flavius may not look down on him too much, you could tell he didn't want to be around him. No one did. He was from the Districts. District and Capitol citizens weren't meant to be friends. District citizens were on that list of people to ignore and treat as inferior, along with the Avoxes and other criminals.

So why did I find it so appalling that Haymitch would laugh at the poor Avoxes? It wasn't like any Capitol citizen had done anything good for him- it was them that had made him participate in that awful Quarter Quell seven years ago. He had every right to hate them. I guess I just felt like even someone as troubled as Haymitch may have a bit of compassion for someone who had had their tongue chopped off.

"Oh look, Flavius, our little trinket is finally lost for words." Haymitch sneered.

I was about to snap that I was not "their" little trinket, and I was _not _little either, but just then the train screeched and halted. If I hadn't been wearing a seatbelt, I was pretty sure I would've flown a mile at that point from the immense impact of the stop.

Flavius eyebrows furled. "That's not good. The trains never stop. They never malfunction." He left his seat muttering to himself and headed for the driver's area, assumedly to see what was going on.

"Haymitch, why has the train stopped?" It was a stupid question, I knew. If Flavius didn't know, Haymitch wasn't going to know.

Apparently I was wrong. "It's District 6. They stopped the trains."

I gasped. "They can do that?"

He nodded. "Of course they can. They're the ones that run them. They can stop them whenever they want; it's just that no one ever does."

I frowned. "Then why now? What's changed?"

He shook his head. "I don't _know, _Effie." His voice was tinged with frustration, and he sounded almost sober, so much more serious than he had just a few minutes ago.

"Well then maybe we should find out." It was a stupid thing to say, but I couldn't help myself. I was so curious, and, I'll admit, excited. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before. I had always been in my safe bubble of the Capitol, naïve in a way. Now was the time to find out more about the Districts.

Haymitch smiled, standing up. "After you, sweetheart."

I got up and started trailing Flavius' path, Haymitch following behind me. I could hear the startled and confused words of the citizens on the train as I passed by their seats. One man actually grabbed my sleeve in his desperation.

"Excuse me madam, could you tell me why the train has stopped?" His forehead was covered in sweat, and that's when I realised what a serious situation this was.

I shook my head. "I'm sorry, sir, I don't know. But I'm sure the train should be starting again soon. Just a technical error."

Reluctantly, the man let go of my sleeve. I had just enough time to see the flicker of fear on his face before I kept walking.

Once we got to the driver's section, I reached out a hand to go inside and talk to him and Flavius, but Haymitch laid his hand on mine, and when I turned towards him, I could see he was shaking his head.

"No, Effie, don't go in. Flavius or the driver will just tell us to go out again. This is confidential information, a very dire matter. They don't want a District 12 citizen and a naïve 18-year-old girl listening in."

I blushed. Haymitch always seemed to manage to make me seem about two centimetres tall. "What do we do then?"

"Duh." He did a gesture to his ear. "We _listen in._"

Carefully, we placed our ears against the door. I wasn't entirely sure I was meant to be doing this- a respectable Escort for The Games did not listen into secret conversations- but my curiosity had the better of me. Plus, if I went back to my seat and Haymitch stayed here, I'd be all by myself, and I wasn't sure I wanted that in the suddenly sinister atmosphere the train had taken on.

"I knew we should have try and fought for control all those years ago. I knew District 6 couldn't be trusted to not do something like this." It was a gruff, low voice that I didn't recognise- I assumed it was the driver's.

"They just always seemed so _reliable. _They made all this transport for us without any fuss, always hard at work, and we never had any problems until now." It was Flavius' voice. Huh. So he was just as surprised and taken by this event as Haymitch and I were.

"What's different, then?" I was surprised to hear a third voice in the room. The second in command? It was a woman's voice, cool and suave, completely sophisticated.

"It's President Snow. That order he gave them- that has to be it. They didn't like it." Flavius, for once, sounded on edge and his voice was wavering. Haymitch raised an eyebrow at me, but I was just as puzzled as he was.

"What order?" The woman said. "What did President Snow do?"

But Flavius didn't seem to hear. "Do you know what this means, Emil? It means..." He hesitated, and then whispered, "_A rebellion."_

I gasped and suddenly it seemed suspiciously quiet in the driver's room. All of a sudden, the door Haymitch and I were listening through swished open and Flavius looked at us with glaring eyes.

"I must say, I'm disappointed. I expected as much from Haymitch, but from you, Effie…" He gave me a cold look.

"Sorry." I blushed. "Is there really going to be a rebellion?"

"No. Everything's fine. I suggest you and Haymitch go back to your carriage now. The train should be up and running soon, and we're nearly at District 12."

There was no "suggestion" about it. It was an order, and I for one was happy to oblige. "Come on, Haymitch." I muttered, and the two of us went back to our seats.

Once we sat down, I slumped against the window, embarrassed and worried. I regretted listening in, not just because Flavius was angry, but because his words would stay with me forever.

A rebellion.

Haymitch, however, was grinning. Not for long. Since Flavius wasn't around, I made the most of the opportunity to have bad manners and slapped his cheek hard, leaving a red mark.

He looked at me furiously. "What was that for?"

"For grinning like that. I know what you're thinking. 'Yay, a chance to overthrow the Capitol, a chance to stop the Games. Well, you're forgetting that loads of District citizens will get killed in this rebellion."

"We don't even know that there's going to _be_ a rebellion. Flavius was over exaggerating because he was worried. This stop, it was just a one-time thing, a way to annoy President Snow and delay the Games, because of this thing that he has done to them." He rubbed his cheek. "And actually, I wasn't smiling because of that. I was grinning because you look cute when you're scared."

I wanted to slap him again, but I managed to control myself. "Don't talk to me like that. In fact, don't talk to me at all. Not till we get to District 12. Preferably, not ever."

"As you wish." Haymitch said, and he _was _quiet. After the train had started again, and from then till the arrival at District 12.

"This is our stop." Said Flavius. He had returned after the train had got going again, but had ignored us until now. He got up and we followed, standing at the doors waiting for them to open. When they did, the strong smell of coal and fire hit me almost immediately.

"Mmm. I love the smell of mining and burning things in the afternoon." Haymitch remarked, breaking his silence.

The train station here was far more run down than in the Capitol. The silver walls had rusted and there were people everywhere. I noticed one man- a Peacekeeper, I noticed from his uniform- hitting another man- who was carrying a bag of coal-

with a large piece of rope.

"Is he _whipping _that man?" I asked.

"Sure is. Welcome to District 12." Haymitch let out a deep breath. "It's good to be home."


	6. The District

Ch 6 Trinket

"Home sweet home."

Haymitch sighed as he entered his house in District 12, me following behind him. I heard the door whine as it shut behind me, leaving me and Haymitch alone in the house. Flavius had left us once we'd got off the training, stating that he had "urgent business" to attend near the City Hall and would meet us there when we rehearsed the Reaping Day. This had confused me a little, as the reaping wasn't for months, so why practice now?

"What do you think, Effie? My house compared to your fancy one back in the Capitol?" Haymitch said in a teasing tone, gesturing towards the room we were in.

I looked around. It was smaller than expected. I knew that Victors of the Hunger Games got a house in the Victor's Village as part of their prize, which claimed luxury and size, and this house had neither. The cheap wallpaper on the walls was peeling off, and the room was only suitable for about three people to be in. It was also quite dusty and cramped, the old furniture taking up most of the space. I had expected the Victors' houses to be similar in size to the smaller ones in the Capitol, but it was clear this was not the case. If this was a luxury house in District 12, what were the normal houses like?

Of course I already knew the answer to that question. As soon as I had stepped out the train I had been trying to glimpse everything, curious about what it was like. District 12 had been a big culture shock for me. Everything seemed so dark and sad compared to the Capitol, as these people had dark clothes and wore no makeup. Their houses were smaller and run-down, made of wood and stone. Most of the people wore glum expression and were shockingly thin in comparison to the plump, never-underfed citizens of the Capitol.

District 12 almost made me want to cry.

"It's… nice." I said in answer to Haymitch's question. "Wallpaper isn't very tasteful though."

Haymitch grinned. "Don't blame me. It's your Capitol citizens that decorated this place." He walked towards me and suddenly grabbed my hands. In surprise, I tried to grab them back, before realising he was taking my suitcases for me.

He walked towards the shabby stairway at the other end of the room. "Come on, sweetheart, I'll show you to your room."

I wasn't expecting much for my room, which was good as I didn't get much. The room was just big enough for one person, with a wooden single bed in the corner and a small writing desk next to it. Haymitch dumped my bags in front of the desk before opening the curtains in the room.

"There." He smiled. "A room for a princess."

I didn't smile back. "Haymitch," I said, "Why are we here?"

His smile faded, replaced with a frown. "I honestly don't know, Effie." He sighed. "Like I said before, the Capitol doesn't tell me anything. Just because I'm a victor, doesn't mean they ever communicate with me."

"Then why did Snow appoint you to come and pick me up with Flavius?" I asked him.

He smiled. "Because you were clearly so very inspired by me in your interview."

"Oh God," I put my head in my hands and sat onto my bed. "You know about that?"

"Of course I do." Haymitch sat down next to me. "And I have to say, I'm flattered that you reaped me." He grinned. "Victors can't be reaped, you know."

I elbowed him. "It's not funny. It's because of you that I've ended up with this job. You saw how the people of District 12 looked at me as I walked through their District. They hate me."

"I don't hate you."

I gasped slightly, surprised by Haymitch's kindness in those words, and looked towards him. He really did have quite a good-looking face. Those eyes, those golden eyes that you could just pour all your hopes into.

I placed a palm on his cheek, and he drew me closer, before leaning his face towards mine.

_Oh God. _I thought. _I'm going to have my first kiss! And a kiss with a District 12 man! What would Mother say?_

I pushed that thought aside. Who cared what Mother said? I started to lean in too, thinking _this is it, I'm really going to kiss him, _when I heard a high pitched continuous ringing and we broke apart.

"That would be my phone." Haymitch muttered, flustered. He got off the bed and ran out the room, but not before I saw the redness on his cheeks.

_What did I nearly do? _I thought, lying back on the bed. I had nearly kissed _Haymitch. _Not just a man from one of the Districts, but a rude, drunk man too.

And he had to be so much older than her. I counted the years that had gone by since his Games- 7- and added it to the age he was then- 18- before gasping. _25. _That made him 7 years older than me. My stomach twisted. What would he find interesting in a young, boring girl like me?

Not just that, but what made it worse was that he was _Haymitch. _On the train journey from the Capitol, Haymitch had been mostly rude and cruel towards me, so what was the change of heart now?

The door opened and I turned my head quickly towards it to see who it was. Haymitch.

_Well of course it's Haymitch. _Said a voice in my head. _Who else would it be?_

Haymitch cleared his throat. "Effie, we have to go. Flavius called, said we have to go to the City Centre _now. _It's vital, apparently."

"But Flavius said we don't have to go until tomorrow. We have loads of time to rehearse."

"Well, he's changed his mind now. It's urgent we go now." Haymitch couldn't make eye-contact with me.

"Well, alright." I got up and walked towards the mirror facing me. "Let me just check how I look before I go-"

"You look beautiful as always, sweetheart." Haymitch grabbed my wrist and turned me round to face him. I blushed. Before, I would've taken this as a passing joke, a tease, nothing out of the ordinary. But now, after this nearly-kiss, I couldn't help but think it meant something more. I sighed and took my wrist from Haymitch, walking out the room, and wandering if things would ever be the same between me and Haymitch again.

"Darlings, you made it!"

As Haymitch and I got out the automobile, we were greeted by our friend, Flavius- well, he was my friend, but I'm not so sure about Haymitch- and I couldn't help but think back to when he had greeted Mother and me at the station. Back when things were less complicated and I knew next to nothing about Haymitch Abernathy.

"Darlings?" Haymitch remarked, snorting, as we got out the automobile and looked around ourselves. We were in the City Centre, and it was nothing like I imagined. For Haymitch, this had to be eerily familiar, the place where he had waited to be reaped from the young age of 12 right up to 6 years later, at 18. Even now, when he was too old to be reaped, he had to watch his friends and acquaintances from the village be reaped, dreading their future. For me, though, this was a completely new sight to my eyes. It wasn't particularly spectacular, but then again I hadn't expected it to be- the rest of District 12 was run down so why should this place be any different? It was fairly minimalistic, with a wide stone stage surrounded by three large screens, where the film of President Snow and the Capitol would be shown. There were also two big speakers above the screens that would project the sound of the film and also the Capitol anthem.

"Right Effie," Flavius came over to me and touched my shoulder. "As you've probably worked out, you will stand there," he pointed at the centre of the stage, "on Reaping day and the citizens of District 12 will stand there." He pointed to the area below the stage. "You will be handed a reaping ball so don't worry about that, and just make sure you smile and seem enthusiastic, and you should be fine."

I nodded. "Flavius, I'll be fine, don't worry. You're acting as if we're going to have the reaping tomorrow or something!"

Flavius tensed and took his arm off my shoulder. "Don't be silly, Effie," He gave an uneasy laugh, "we can't possibly have the reaping _tomorrow. _There's still so much to organise!"

"I know, I was just- you know, never mind." Sometimes I thought some of the Capitol citizens had a strange sense of humour. In fact, they seemed to have little sense of humour at all, apart from when they saw children killed in the Gamed. Oh, that always seemed to make them laugh.

"Okay, get on the stage, then Effie, and we can begin." He looked down at my feet. "Oh, actually, will that be appropriate footwear? I'm not sure."

"Flavius, stop _panicking._ I can walk in these heels." I started towards the stage. "See?"

Flavius nodded. "Okay. Let's roll then."

As soon as I got on stage, we started rehearsing, pretending the anthem and film were playing right up to after calling out the boy's name. Of course, I remembered my quip, "May the odds be ever in your favor!" which Flavius especially loved.

"Great work today, Effie." Flavius said to me once the rehearsal was over. The other camera men and crew who had been watching nodded and muttered their approval. "I knew Snow was right to take you on as Escort."

I couldn't help but glower. That was the most praise I'd received all day, and I had been regretting this job ever since I had taken it, but Flavius' compliment had suddenly made it more bearable. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. I had time. As long as I didn't think about the people I was reaping or make any kind of friendship with them, I'd be fine, emotionally.

"Thanks, Flavius."

"You're welcome." He looked at his watch. "Now, it's getting late. I suggest you and Haymitch go back to the Victors' Village and we'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

I nodded and smiled, though inside I had butterflies. I didn't want to go back to Haymitch's house again. Just thinking of how awkward it would be made me feel nervous.

"Come on then, sweetheart."

Haymitch grabbed my arm and we starting walking towards the automobile that was waiting for us. When we were out of sight to Flavius and the rest of the crew but not quite close enough to the automobile, Haymitch stopped me.

"Now, listen up. I've found out why we're here, and why this rehearsal was so early."

I gasped. "How? Who told you?"

He grinned. "I've found out an important piece of information and the first thing you want to know is who told me." He laughed dryly. "It was one of the crew members. I had to pay him, of course, but money isn't a problem for me anymore."

The way he said that made me want to punch him. My family too were very wealthy, but unlike Haymitch, we didn't know about the poor conditions in District 12. Haymitch had lived here all his life, had friends and loved ones here, and didn't seem to spare a penny. What did he need it for, anyway? There wasn't much to buy around here.

"What did he tell you? What's going on?" I tried to keep the panic and frustration at Haymitch out of my voice.

Haymitch pushed a strand of his chocolate brown hair out of his eyes. "You're not going to like it."

"I don't care." I didn't even bother to keep the frustration out my voice this time. "I want to know. If it involves me, I want to know."

"Oh, it certainly involves you, alright." He said, before laughing dryly.

I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to me furiously. Girls weren't supposed to be violent, especially not grown-up, sophisticated, respectable girls like me, but I didn't care. I was getting really anxious now. What wasn't he telling me?

"Listen here, Haymitch. The automobile isn't going to wait for us forever, and if it goes, we'll have to walk home, which won't be fun. You're not just trying the driver's patience, you're trying mine too. Tell me what you know."

Haymitch's face paled, and that's when I knew. He wasn't joking, and the matter in question wasn't a laughing matter. He was serious this time.

"It's- it's about the Games." He said, trying to keep his breath despite the fact that his pulled collar was tightening his throat. "The, the reaping-"

"Yes?" I shook him.

"The reaping is tomorrow."


End file.
